mumstheword
MyPTSD Pro
Ok ...So, taking the plunge ...I'm going to start where I am and perhaps travel in circles, or spirals, up or down, maybe both at the same time, or backwards from here, or all over the place, zig zagging and jumping or dancing around ... I give myself permission to go wherever it seems appropriate or what feels right at the time.
I'm going to start at where I've only just been, in the last 30 minutes. I just rang the hospital where they offer an inpatients program for chronic sufferers like myself. It has a 3 week program for those of us who are struggling with trauma and/or dissociation symptoms that are marring our lives. I'm to ring back tomorrow morning and get the specs.
Meanwhile I'm wondering how much life I have left and if I can spend some of it truly at peace, not frightened or shamed or tortured inside or putting on a brave, brave face that covers so much hurt and pain.
I'm only 44 and my youngest son and numerous other's comment on how young I look. My boy says I look like I'm about 30. I think it's because trauma froze so many parts of me from such a young age, they froze and splintered, lost somewhere along the road I've travelled.
Some I've managed to collect and some remain stranded, crying out for me through the fog and cold and darkness, or hiding in caves filled with dripping slime and hidey holes.
I'm coming! Don't despair! I'm coming to retrieve you soul fragments and self-slithers! A slither is a tiny piece and mine got locked in ice. The ice of malevolence and terror and trauma and smashed into pieces. Now I call a desire for wholeness. Let the journey begin, or continue or do whatever it needs to do.
I'm going to start at where I've only just been, in the last 30 minutes. I just rang the hospital where they offer an inpatients program for chronic sufferers like myself. It has a 3 week program for those of us who are struggling with trauma and/or dissociation symptoms that are marring our lives. I'm to ring back tomorrow morning and get the specs.
Meanwhile I'm wondering how much life I have left and if I can spend some of it truly at peace, not frightened or shamed or tortured inside or putting on a brave, brave face that covers so much hurt and pain.
I'm only 44 and my youngest son and numerous other's comment on how young I look. My boy says I look like I'm about 30. I think it's because trauma froze so many parts of me from such a young age, they froze and splintered, lost somewhere along the road I've travelled.
Some I've managed to collect and some remain stranded, crying out for me through the fog and cold and darkness, or hiding in caves filled with dripping slime and hidey holes.
I'm coming! Don't despair! I'm coming to retrieve you soul fragments and self-slithers! A slither is a tiny piece and mine got locked in ice. The ice of malevolence and terror and trauma and smashed into pieces. Now I call a desire for wholeness. Let the journey begin, or continue or do whatever it needs to do.